


tell me some things last

by jaradel



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Fluff, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-10 01:10:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6931849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaradel/pseuds/jaradel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They do not make love in the back of Coach's truck after the fireworks.</p><p>It's not that they don't <i>want</i> to, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	tell me some things last

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Characters belong to [Ngozi](http://ngoziu.tumblr.com), creator of the web comic [Check, Please!](http://omgcheckplease.tumblr.com)
> 
> Beta'ed by [mistyzeo](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mistyzeo). Thank you!
> 
> French translations (not many this time) via hovertext and at the end.
> 
> Title from the song "Heal" by Tom O'Dell.
> 
> Many thanks to [tiptoe39](http://archiveofourown.org/users/tiptoe39), [marswithghosts](http://archiveofourown.org/users/cautionzombies), [annundriel](http://archiveofourown.org/users/annundriel), and [pawspaintsnthings](http://pawspaintsnthings.tumblr.com) for their encouragement!

They do not make love in the back of Coach's truck after the fireworks, in spite of the carefully placed blankets and sleeping bag. Even after the fireworks end, it is still too hot and humid to think about getting _more_ hot and humid, not to mention sticky. Also, it's Coach's truck, and Bitty is emphatic in his belief that Coach would know, somehow, that he and Jack had been fooling around in it. They do, however, take the opportunity to get to know each other much, much better, through soft, slow, deep kisses, gentle touches, and whispered promises under the starry sky. 

Eventually, though, Georgia's native fauna - specifically of the insect variety - tip the scales in favor of them driving back to Bitty's house. The air conditioning of the truck cab is a blessed relief, even if Jack can feel the sweat cooling on his skin. He wonders if it's even worth taking a shower tonight, if he and Bitty are just going to get sweaty again in Bitty's room - something that Bitty guarantees they will do. His fingers itch to touch Bitty, to map every centimeter of his body, but for now he contents himself with tangling the fingers of his left hand with Bitty's right, as Bitty drives down the deserted secondary road back to the house. 

The porch light is on when they pull into the driveway, but aside from a lamp in the front window, the rest of the house is dark. They take the blankets and sleeping bags with them when they go inside, and leave them in the mudroom off the kitchen, before quietly ascending the stairs to Bitty's room. Once upstairs, though, they don't immediately pounce on each other; for all of their back-of-the-truck activities, there is still a shyness between them. They brush their teeth, hip-checking each other in front of the old porcelain sink with the double taps, then quietly pad back into Bitty's room and shut the door. Jack pulls off his sweat-stained t-shirt, throwing it on top of his duffel, and kicks off his yellow Adidas sneakers, which are finally showing some wear after two years. He pulls off his socks, tossing them on top of his t-shirt. Finally he takes off his shorts, folding them and draping them over the back of Bitty's desk chair. He still has his boxer-briefs on, and yet he feels more naked now than he has in a shower full of nude teammates after a game. 

Jack thinks it might have to do with the fact that Bitty is staring at him open-mouthed, his dark brown eyes as big as saucers. 

"Jack..." 

Bitty is down to his briefs as well, and Jack is struck speechless at the sight of him. Freckles dust his sun-kissed face and shoulders; a smattering of fine blond hair accents his chest between his pectorals, his tiny brown nipples stiff and peaked. Jack's gaze glides lower, taking in Bitty's smooth abdomen, narrow hips, and long legs, then travels back upward, over his briefs (and Jack tries not to dwell too much on the long outline he sees in the front), up his torso, and over his arms, tanned and more defined than they were even a few months ago. His gaze lights on Bitty's face, lingering on those wide, dark eyes that threaten to drown Jack in their depths. Bitty's gaze is hungry, wanting; Jack can feel the tension between them, and wonders which of them will succumb first to the magnetic pull of the other.  

"Bitty." 

The word escapes Jack's lips, barely a breath between them. It tastes sweet on his tongue, like something he denied himself for so long and now he's finally able to savor it, to crave more and more and not be denied. He moves first; if he's honest, he's been in Bitty's orbit for a while now, a lonely satellite around a brilliant star. He stops in front of Bitty, a hair's breadth of distance between them, so close that Bitty has to look up at Jack, and oh, Jack could lose himself in Bitty's eyes, so open, pulling him in and surrounding him with love. He cups Bitty's face with his hands, fingers splayed against the sides of his head, gently brushing the soft, short fuzz of his undercut, as he dips down to capture full, pink lips in the gentlest of kisses. 

Bitty melts into the kiss, his small, sure hands finding Jack's hips and pulling him closer. Jack can feel Bitty trembling just slightly, and he wonders if Bitty feels the same giddy nervousness that he feels right now. His hands slide down to Bitty's shoulders, thumbs gently brushing Bitty's collarbones, and Jack imagines that he can feel the soft dusting of freckles there. He deepens the kiss, gently parting Bitty's lips with his own, and he thinks that if he could climb inside Bitty, if he could live forever in that cocoon of warmth and love, he'd never want for anything else in this world. Bitty melts into his touch, melts into his body, filling all the spaces and hollows that Jack didn't even knew existed until so very recently. His hands travel over Bitty's back, fingertips mapping the planes and angles of Bitty's shoulders, the deceptively strong muscles beneath smooth, freckled skin.  

Jack slowly sinks to the floor, his mouth trailing along Bitty's jaw, his neck, down his chest and stomach, until he's on his knees, supplicant. Bitty threads his fingers through Jack's hair as Jack nuzzles at Bitty's cock through his briefs, absorbing him with all of his senses, his hands now on Bitty's ass, just holding him there. He focuses on the heat, the slightly musky scent of Bitty's arousal, the firmness of Bitty's backside in his hands. It was never just about sex, and Jack thinks it never will be; everything they do is a natural extension of their love for each other, as natural and necessary as breathing. 

Bitty's fingers card through Jack's hair, and the sensation soothes and grounds him. His nerves are on high alert, in spite of it being for all the right reasons, and feeling Bitty's gentle touch, the repetitive motions of his fingertips against Jack's scalp, both calms and empowers him. He slides his hands around to Bitty's hips, fingers catching in the waistband of his briefs as he looks up, asking the question with his eyes. Bitty answers him with a nod and the softest of smiles, and Jack's heart feels a bit too large for his chest. He hooks his fingertips in the waistband, gently tugging and shifting the cotton briefs down and over Bitty's cock, his eyes never leaving Bitty's. The air between them is charged, the wanting, the craving for more, more, always more, and yet it's so silent that Jack can still hear the locusts wittering through the closed window. Bitty's briefs flutter to the floor, a soft whisper as they slide down his legs and pool at his feet. Only then does Jack tear his gaze from Bitty's eyes, and focus on what's in front of him. 

There is nothing unique or remarkable about Bitty's cock. It is of a size and girth proportional to his frame; cut, with the tip curving just slightly toward his belly. To Jack, though, it is beautiful simply because it belongs to Bitty, and he hopes he has the privilege to see Bitty like this for years, decades to come. Jack leans forward just slightly, feeling the heat radiating from Bitty's groin. He nuzzles the length of Bitty's cock, the crisp, dark blond hairs around it soft against his cheek. Bitty sways just slightly, and Jack's hands reach out, holding his hips and steadying him. He presses small, soft kisses along the length of Bitty's cock and on the tip, eliciting a low moan. Emboldened by Bitty's reaction, he fits his lips just around the tip, suckling gently, touching the tip of his tongue to the slit. Bitty lets out a high-pitched moan, his fingertips pressing a little more firmly into Jack's scalp, sending a thrill of pleasure through Jack's body. He takes just a little more of Bitty's cock in his mouth, gently sucking and swirling his tongue around the glans. Bitty swears softly, his fingertips skating over Jack's scalp, ruffling his hair and holding him close as Jack licks and sucks. Then Bitty's hands leave his hair, and tug urgently at his arms. 

"Jack, honey. Take me to bed." 

Bitty's words send a jolt through Jack's body. He surges upwards, wrapping his arms around Bitty and lifting him up. Bitty muffles his shriek of surprise in Jack's shoulder and wraps his legs around Jack's waist, and _mon Dieu_ if Jack doesn't get him on the bed soon, he's going to vibrate out of his skin. Bitty surrounds him, invades his senses; he feels Bitty's warm, heaving chest against his own; Bitty's hard cock between their stomachs; Bitty's strong, gorgeous legs locked around his waist; Bitty's beautifully tanned and freckled arms around his shoulders; Bitty's lips, oh, _Bitty's lips_ , sucking gently on his neck just below his ear. He can smell Bitty's sweat, mingled with the scent of grass and pastry and spices, and Jack just wants to lick and suck and _taste_ Bitty everywhere. 

Jack shuffles the few steps to Bitty's bed, cradling his back and ass as he lowers him gently, reverently to the rumpled coverlet. Bitty stretches out like a cat, and Jack's mouth goes dry at the sight of Bitty's cock bobbing as he arches his back. He slides his own briefs off, and almost trips over his own feet trying to climb onto the bed, on his knees between Bitty's thighs. He covers Bitty's body with his own; their cocks sliding together as they melt into each other from hips to chest. Jack rests his forearms on either side of Bitty's head, fingertips brushing his sun-bleached hair. Bitty smiles, catching his bottom lip in his teeth, something that never fails to drive Jack wild. Jack leans down, wanting to taste that smile, to know if it's as sweet as it looks. The kiss is just a brush of lips at first, until Bitty opens up to Jack's lips and the kiss becomes needy, almost desperate. Bitty's hands are roaming all over Jack's shoulders, back, ass, anywhere they can reach, and Jack groans into Bitty's mouth, his hips rolling into Bitty's with each touch. Bitty's hips meet his again and again, their cocks sweat-slicked and sliding against each other, both of them chasing their release together. 

Their kisses become less coordinated, more of just breathing into each other's mouths as Jack slides one hand between them to grasp their cocks. Bitty gasps at Jack's touch, his narrow hips thrusting up into Jack's downward strokes. Bitty invades all of Jack's senses, and he's on the verge of being overwhelmed, but there is no panic; just the desire to get as close as he can to Bitty, to open himself to Bitty, and have Bitty do the same to him. He watches Bitty as he strokes their cocks, watches as Bitty comes undone, shuddering and throwing his head back, his eyes closed and his chest heaving, and then Bitty's hands are on his shoulders and his legs around his waist, and he comes with a groan that vibrates through Jack, sending him tumbling over the edge as well. 

Jack comes back to himself in Bitty's embrace. He is lying on his stomach, covering Bitty's right side, his right leg thrown over Bitty's thighs. Bitty is gently stroking his back, long sweeping movements of his hand up and down Jack's spine in a regular rhythm. Jack's head is tucked under Bitty's chin, an odd arrangement given their respective heights, but one that is surprisingly comfortable. His right hand is resting on Bitty's breastbone, his fingers tracing swirling patterns in the soft smattering of hair there. He should be sticky, but he's not; distantly he remembers Bitty swiping at their stomachs with his discarded t-shirt and tossing it carelessly on the floor. Jack wants to look up at Bitty, but he is loathe to disturb this peaceful moment. Bitty must sense it, though, because he presses a kiss to Jack's forehead through his bangs. 

"I love you, Jack Zimmermann." Bitty's voice is pitched low, and rumbles through his chest into Jack's head, into his soul. 

Jack lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding; a slow sigh of air escaping his lungs. " _J't'aime_ , Eric Bittle. _J't'aime_." 

 

**Author's Note:**

> mon Dieu = my God  
> J't'aime= I love you


End file.
